


Blanket

by yodepalma



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sickfic, but can be read as gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 22:51:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11656332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/pseuds/yodepalma
Summary: The only thing worse than being sick is being sickwith Noctis.Written for day 1 of Ignoct week: taking care of each other.





	Blanket

**Author's Note:**

> This is the only thing I managed to finish for the week and I'm REALLY UPSET about it. I might post a drabble on day 5 though, who knows.

The only thing worse than being sick is being sick _with Noctis_. Maybe it’s what he gets for not being concerned about Noctis’ longer hours in bed, but he thinks the punishment might be a bit too severe. For one, Noctis’ couch is _horrendously_ uncomfortable to sleep on. For another, Noctis gets whinier every day he’s sick, and Ignis just doesn’t have the patience for it. Not when standing up makes him dizzy and nauseous.

“Specs,” Noctis says. Ignis sighs but doesn’t respond, keeping his arm flopped over his eyes. The sunlight is too painful. He just wants to _sleep_. “Speeeecs,” Noctis whines again. And then something light and _slimy_ lands on Ignis’ bare arm and falls onto his cheek. Ignis grabs it with his other hand and _slowly_ uncovers his eyes.

It’s a used tissue. Noctis just threw his snot on Ignis’ _face_.

“I’m going to be sick,” Ignis rasps very calmly. He almost slides onto the floor trying to get off the couch, and then he shoves a blanket-covered Noctis away from him so he can stumble into the bathroom.

Vomiting is unpleasant, but it _does_ make his stomach feel better. For now.

Noctis stumbles into the room while he’s still gathering the energy to get up. “Are you okay?” he asks, voice cracking. Kind of him to be worried _now_.

“I will be once I’ve killed you,” Ignis says to the toilet bowl. It takes some fumbling for him to stand and flush the toilet. He moves to the sink and scrubs his hands and arm, then he brushes his teeth. None of it makes him feel any better. He glares at Noctis. “What did you _want_ , Noct?”

“…I was hungry.” Noctis has a faint pout on his face, but Ignis doesn’t think it’s intentional. He looks exhausted even though he’s been doing nothing but sleeping for two days straight. “I can just get something myself?”

“No!” Ignis’ head pounds at the volume of his own voice. “No, I can cook. Just…play one of your games or something.”

“Are you sure?” Noctis pulls his blanket tighter around his shoulders and hunches in on himself. The attempt at puppy dog eyes is definitely on purpose. “I want to help.”

Ignis pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t even cook when you’re well.”

Noctis steps further into the bathroom and tugs Ignis’ hand away from his face. “You could teach me?”

Damnit, he can’t stay mad at Noctis. No matter _how_ much he deserves it.

“Not when we’re both sick.” He turns Noctis around and gives him a little nudge. “Just relax, okay? I know you’re still tired.”

Noctis nods and shuffles out of the room. Ignis follows until he’s _sure_ Noctis isn’t going to try to get up again, then he heads to the kitchen. He opens the fridge hopefully, but there aren’t any leftovers.

“Soup,” he mutters to himself, and turns to the cabinets instead. There are a few cans he likes to leave on-hand in case he can’t come over to cook, but it feels _wrong_ to simply warm one up. He gives himself a few seconds to regret his decision, and then he digs up the supplies to make it himself.

It takes him an hour of chopping and sautéing and simmering before he finishes. When he’s done, his eyesight is starting to blur and he feels _weak_. He still ladles out a bowl for Noctis and brings it out to him.

“Thanks,” Noctis says, his eyes on the game.

Ignis puts the soup on the coffee table and collapses on the couch. He leans back and tries to throw his arm over his eyes again, but he gives up when he squishes his glasses against his face. Screw it. He’ll just sleep like this.

A soft, heavy blanket falls haphazardly against his back and Noctis makes a tiny, frustrated noise. Clumsy fingers poke at Ignis’ shoulder until Ignis opens his eyes to find out what the hell Noctis is doing.

“Grab the corner,” Noctis says. Ignis automatically does as told, holding the blanket in place as Noctis carefully tucks it in around him. Noctis beams when he’s done, pleased with himself, and tucks himself into Ignis’ side with his soup. The other end of the blanket is still wrapped around his shoulder.

Ignis sighs and curls his arm around Noctis’ back, relaxing as Noctis slurps at his soup. This is the best he’s felt in _days_. At least until Noctis stops eating to frown suspiciously into his bowl.

“Is this _vegetable_?” He sounds like he suspects Ignis of poisoning him.

Ignis groans. “Just eat it, Noct.”

**Author's Note:**

> Noct is a pain in the butt, but Ignis loves him. Usually.


End file.
